The Magnificence of Death

by Rhea Rainwater

Curses are funny that way; they lull you into a false sense of security while tragedy stalks you from the shadows.

“I’ve come out of kindness,” he said, tilting his chin back toward Ishani, “to warn you.” “Kindness?” I spit, shaking out of his grip. “Death is not kind.” “Yet here I am.”

That’s when I understood who he was. Not a man. Not a bystander. Not a rescuer. Death. Not metaphorically. Not symbolically. The real thing. The raw, ancient presence of it. Time stopped, because he willed it. He looked down at Beatrice, my daughter, frozen in my arms, and tilted his head like he couldn’t quite figure her out. Like she wasn’t supposed to be here. Like she’d confused something in his order.

“What are you?” he countered, his eyes devouring me beneath a quizzical brow. “You are what I am not. I am not what you are.”

“If you are tempest, I am tranquility. You may call me Death.”

“The heart of a mother is a fierce weapon to behold.”

Death reached for me, “Forever is a long time, Astoria. That’s why I’ve come. I only wished to make sure you were okay.”

“No one should lie in their grief alone.”

“One night,” he pleaded, taking a hesitant step toward me. “You might not care to admit it, but we’re more alike than you think. As long as you’re cursed, I will haunt you.”

One could only spit venom so long until their hearts decayed to match their thoughts.

“You came,” I said in a hush—trying, but failing, to hide the relief in my voice. “You called,” he replied, as if it was that simple.

“You need me?” Grim asked, his tone laced with quiet command.

“No!” I reached out, grabbing hold of his arm. “I’m sorry, yes. Yes, I need you.” My self-preservation was much too strong to pay any mind to the naked glint of mischief in his eye.

His hand came atop mine on his arm, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand in a soothing motion.

“I’ve waited a century to hear those words f...

Smiling, he leaned i...

“They’re sweet. Like honey dripping f...

“I won’t leave you stranded in the gardens, Star. You have my word.”

At one hundred and forty-six, Astoria finally appeared every bit the proper old lady, even though she still wore her light-washed jeans with ripped knees, a purple hoodie, and Converse. It made me chuckle under my breath. She was adorable, in a way she didn’t even realize. “Go ahead,” I said, my voice light with amusement. “Turn around and open your eyes.”

Once she opened her eyes, her hands shot to her mouth, covering the reaction I knew I would commit to memory for as long as I existed. The moment Astoria Devlin Tempest had, at long last, aged.

Deep down, buried in a place I wasn’t ready to excavate, I knew the truth. There was more to our story than a curse.

“Our words carry weight, Astoria.”

“You gave a cosmic entity an identity outside his duty. It meant a good deal to him, and so Death prefers his name be reserved—for you.”

“I should never have said that,” he murmured against my hair.

“You’ve only ever been honest with me,” I replied. “I used to think I was the hero. But I’m starting to think… maybe I’ve always been the villain.”

“He was a bastard who couldn’t see the treasure before him. He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve Bea, Leo, or Arthur.”

“I’m going to kiss you now,” I said, my voice rough as I reached up to grab the back of her neck, lowering my face to hers.

It would never be enough.

I told her forever was a long time, but I never explained that—It. Wouldn’t. Be. Enough. Not for me. Not for us.

I envied the living, for they could die, and because they could die, they lived.

“A memento mori.” He dropped the necklace into my hand, the weight of it unnervingly heavy.

That truth was hollow and sharp. Humans fought over the meaning of life, waged wars under the guise of justice, and clung to religions that promised both beginnings and endings. We justified cruelty for the sake of an afterlife no one could prove, terrified of death’s finality. Everything we did—our wars, our beliefs, our search for redemption—was driven by our fear of the end.

“Perhaps it’s what you make of it,”

“The connections and the time shared, however fleeting it may be. You seek solace in the idea of something beyond me, hoping it gives purpose to the suffering you endure. A comforting lie wrapped in hope, keeping humans from facing the terrifying truth: that I might truly be the end, and all you are left with is what you made of the time you were given.”

My Darling Curse.

She didn’t know it, but she was everything I couldn’t have. Everything I wanted. She was the one thing that made me feel as though I wasn’t trapped in an endless cycle.

My body wore the marks reminding me that the longer I ignored them, the stronger they’d grow. Not all souls passed peacefully from this life, and there would soon be a war at my door if I didn’t see to it.

“Death can’t die, Star.”

"Why do you call me that?"

"It was a taunt, a...

“You were stubborn, bright, impossible to ignore. I didn’t know w...

“But now… now I think it’s because that’s what you ...

“A s...

“Not just a star. The star. The one thing bright enough to make ...

"Besides," I said, pushing off the floor and brushing the dust from my pants, "I made a deal with the devil. And for the first time in my life..." I looked up at him, feeling the truth settle as a stone inside my chest. "I’ve run out of time."

And then there was light. The house was washed in it, blinding me. "You and I—we're the same," Grim murmured, his voice thick, almost dreamy. "My Tempest," he sighed, the words slurring into the night air as I leaned closer, drawn to him like a tide I couldn't fight. In one swift, aching motion, his strong arms seized me—dragging me down until I crashed against his chest. Our lips collided, rough and desperate, the world falling away around us.

He’d been given the one thing he desired most: love. And even then, fate mocked him. For it was not destined to be, not when she’d be unhappy. Not when she deserved more; everything she had not been given.

I’d have to live with this hollowness in my chest for the rest of eternity.

But I’d wear it like a badge of honor.

Because that was the least I could do for the girl brave enough to fa...